Home for the Holidays
by Metallica4ever
Summary: Krystal, a survivor who was turned into a Hunter and expirimented on, must relive the pain of losing her family every day. But this Christmas Eve, ten years later, an unexpected visitor makes the world seem a little brighter.


**Okay well I was just in the holiday spirit while I was playing L4D2: The Parish and decided to write this. It was inspired by Left4Dead2. I know, Ohio is nowhere NEAR Louisiana but like I said, it was **_**inspired**_** by L4D2. Krystal is a 24 year old woman ten years after the infection. She was infected by a Hunter, and then tested on by the government and CEDA and whoever the heck else was involved with the infection. I wrote this while listening to "Romance in a Slow Dance" by The Bigger Lights and "Monster" by Skillet. Enjoy and review!**

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"Merry Christmas," a familiar voice said, making me nearly jump out of my skin. It had been almost three years since I had heard that voice, and it brought horrible memories along with it. I remembered being trapped in my own body with no hope of escape, doomed to travel and kill until my life was put to an end by the very people I once loved so much. "Baby girl?" the voice called from behind me. I was sitting in front of the fireplace; it was Christmas Eve and I spent it alone, as I always did. Ten years since the infection hit the small town of Sardis, Ohio, yet nothing seemed to change all that much. Three months of bombs and poisons until the land was dry and dead. And then, when the plants grew back and the soil regained life, people just tried to forget about it; forget about everything. But I would never forget-no, I would never be able to forget, because I had been one of the ones to make it through the infection and bombs and poison. I had made it out alive, but I hadn't returned with my sanity intact. No, it was long gone. I would wake at the first light of the morning, screaming and sweating and gasping for air, hoping to God -or whatever was out there- that I would make it through one more day. And other times I prayed for death, so that I wouldn't have to endure so much pain; so the burden I had been carrying for so long would be lifted off my shoulders and I could finally rest peacefully. I remembered the series of painful injections, the tests, the experiments. I remembered being labeled like some kind of animal, being strapped down to the cold metallic surface like a moth pinned to corkboard. And I hated it. I hated everything, including life itself. I wanted to die in there; in that pure white room. With the lights always shining in my eyes, I could hardly ever see anything. My ears rung and my throat was so sore I couldn't speak for weeks at a time; I was just kept in a silent little white room where the only sounds were doctors -if you could even call them that- murmuring and whispering to each other about you. It drove me mad. My sanity was long gone before I left that horrid, god awful place. I was only fourteen, but I felt like I had aged decades before it was over. I had watched my friends; my family, my mother and father and sisters die right in front of me. My mother had always said I was the strong one; the protector. And I failed. I let them die and I should have died as well, but no, my fate was to live through the tragedy that I had seen; that so few others had seen. I witnessed everything through cold and distant eyes- eyes that should have been watching out for my little sisters and my parents whom I missed so, so much. I wanted to take it all back, but I had to live my life swallowed in shadows, full of regret and anguish and hate for every single human being I thought I once knew. Accept for one.

"Krystal?" he called out once again, "Krys?" I turned around to see Jason. He looked so much...older. It had only been three years, but since the last time I had seen he had cut his hair short and he had a bit of stubble now; just that made him look so much older. He no longer looked like a teen; he was an adult now. I thought back to that terrible day three years ago when he told me he had gotten a job across the country. I had cried and pleaded with him to stay but in the end it was a waste. He had promised me that he would visit often, but it just added another broken promise to the pile of trash that was my life. I knew he meant for the best when he left, but it had only hurt me more. I loved him, and, though he was just my friend, I wished he could stay with me forever. But I knew it was impossible and I could never ask him to stay with me. He couldn't be chained to this terrible fait like me. If he stayed with me, he would lose everything. I couldn't go outside without having those horrid flashbacks, and I knew he wouldn't want to be with someone who couldn't even step out the door without screaming. Whenever I went anywhere where there were people I always drew attention to myself. My eyes were a bright violet color and my long hair had turned extremely dark grey-blue due to the infection and all the testing. My skin was nearly white with a hint of grey in it, and if I ever went to a store or even just walked out on the street, people would start to panic and yell and children would point and ask questions like "What's wrong with her, mommy?" or "Is she sick?" and I hated it. Mothers would pull their children away from me, even if I was on the other side of the road. Nobody wanted to see the strange infected woman who had somehow survived everything. I wanted to stay locked up in my small home and just stay there forever. But I had to leave at least once a week to buy things like groceries and every once in a while some new clothes when my old stuff didn't fit.

I stared into Jason's eyes, the fire illuminating them and making them an unnatural reddish orange color. He had amazing brown eyes that were like liquid gold in the sunlight. He was just plain gorgeous. "Krys, it's me, Jason! You remember me, right?" He smiled warmly at me. I turned back to the fire, my eyelids slowly becoming heavy with sleepiness as I gazed at the hot, dancing flames.

"Yes," I replied quietly, "Yes I remember you." I could hear him take a step backwards.

"Heh...good. I was starting to think you-"

"I wouldn't forget about you," I said, emotionless. I never did use emotion in my voice. Anyone but Jason would think I was being cold or distant, but it was really just the way I spoke. I couldn't help it.

"Good. I never once stopped thinking about y-"

"I'm sure you did. If you had never stopped thinking about me, you would have visited. Or at least returned a call once in a while," I said. He took another step back.

"Are you okay? You don't sound very good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You obviously don't remember my voice, then," I replied, keeping my eyes on the flickering fire. It was warm and cozy to any normal person, but I was much too cold and a bit uncomfortable. My skin was usually hot, and I was used to warm weather, which is why I hated winter so much. I was always alone and cold and the worst thing about Christmas was the snow. Not having anyone to share anything with was also always a downer.

"Uh...Krystal? Look I'm sorry I left you here but it was for the best! Please don't be so mad at me," he said, whispering the last part.

"I'm not mad. I don't feel much emotion anymore. I thought you would remember me better, Jason," I said, feeling distant. I was never really a part of the world since the infection hit. I guess when you lose your sanity, you lose the social aspect of your life as well.

"Krys please don't be mad!"

"I just told you I'm not mad," I said flatly.

"But just listen to yourself! You won't even look at me..."

"I'm not mad at you. And I looked at you when you first came in, Jason," I said quietly before reaching my hands a bit closer to the fire, "You were the one who backed away when you heard my voice."

"Err...Krystal? Are you sure you aren't mad?"

"Yes. I can't feel mad anymore," I said. "I can only feel pain," I whispered to no one in particular. He took one more step back. "Jason? Are you afraid of me?" I asked him.

"No, why would I be afraid of you?" he asked me.

"Well you keep stepping back when I talk, and you know what I can do," I murmured. He gulped, and I smiled slightly. Even though I couldn't really feel happiness anymore, I could still be amused by some things. Fear was usually one of those things, because it made me feel like I was stronger than some people even though I was practically crazy and couldn't even go outside without being afraid. Fear made me feel powerful. When Jason showed fear, it amused me. He was one of the strongest people I knew, yet he could be so weak sometimes.

"WH-what? What's that supposed to mean?" I smiled some more before turning around, flashing my purple eyes- which were even brighter due to the fire –at him. He gulped and opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out.

"What's the matter? You don't remember my eyes? Humph. I would think that you would at least remember my eyes…" I flashed my claws, "You remember these?" I was starting to regain some feeling, and tried my best to show it in my voice. I teased him, showing my claws and smiling just enough to show my sharp teeth. "C'mon…don't you remember? The time when we were walking through the woods, looking for the farm? I got pounced and you noticed my blue eyes had turned just ever so slightly red? Then my hair started to look funny…you thought it was just the light," I said. Now I wasn't teasing. It was torture. I had no sanity left; I was truly a sadistic little bitch. "But I knew…I knew since I got attacked. And you; you wouldn't listen to me. You wouldn't just shoot me like I wanted. You insisted that I would be fine… My nails got longer, my teeth were sharp points, and my hair was blue grey. And still, you said I was okay," I was smirking now, "That is, until you woke up because I was growling. You know I still remember every little detail from that? I remember not being able to control my limbs. I remember hurting so many people…_killing _so many people. I remember how you ran; how you couldn't shoot me. Not even when I was in so much pain…" I couldn't stop myself now. I was flexing my claws, staring him in the eyes, "And how I somehow got into one of those camps. How the scientists or doctors or whatever they called themselves stuck me with needles and cut me and watched me every second of every day until I got back a tiny piece of humanity. And then it got worse…a million times worse, damnit! How I wanted to just leave, and, for some strange reason, how I just wanted to see you again. But they kept me...first as a rare specimen, then an experiment. And I remember how I couldn't do _anything_ about it. Nothing at all. They whispered things about me, sometimes I heard them. They said things like 'should we euthanize her?' like I was some kind of animal and 'maybe we should dissect her' and all I could do was lay there on that metal table and listen and wait. I couldn't do a damn thing to save myself. They injected me with God knows what and…"

"Krys…" I could see tears running down his face and reflecting the light of the fire but I couldn't help but let out my animalistic side. With one low growl and jumped at him, leaving a long scratch across his chest that immediately started to ooze red liquid, seeping through his shirt. I fell to my knees and looked up at him, my emotionless tone coming back as I spoke.

"Ja- oh God Jason…" I looked at the wound I had inflicted on his chest. It wasn't deep at all, but it was enough to bleed. He just looked at me silently with wide eyes. "I'm sorry Jason…"

"Krys," he started, "Holy…Krys how…why did you…I can't…" he stuttered.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened…and I don't know why…but sometimes it just does. My…animal side comes out," I said quietly.

"Krys it's alright, it's just a scratch. Unless…will I…oh God Krys please tell me…" His eyes were even wider now.

"No, you won't get sick. I'm not actually infected," I told him. He sighed.

"Thank God. But really…I'm okay. It's nothing but a little scratch."

"You're lucky." He had seen me do so much worse… My mind wondered to the day I got out of that white prison they had kept me in. I had stepped out of the room and slaughtered every single doctor who had examined me in a matter of moments. Nobody had the time to even scream or fight back. There was just utter silence and the thud of bodies hitting the floor. They altered me…I wasn't just a Hunter anymore. And they hadn't cured me- no, they had made me a weapon. They didn't have a clue that their little plan had faltered, causing more than ten people to die. It was their fault I was a monster. It was their fault that I was so afraid and sadistic and twisted. My mind was sick and wanted to watch the world die at my hands. But the little remaining humanity in me screamed no. That didn't stop me from being a sick and twisted girl, though. I would always _want _to kill, but the part of me that was still alive told me it wasn't right. It wasn't right.

"I know I am, Krystal. But I'm not going to leave you here alone on Christmas Eve. No way. And, if you don't mind, I would like to spend the night," Jason said quietly. I growled but stopped myself and calmed down.

"Okay. You can sleep on the couch, I suppose. My room is through that hallway," I said, pointing to the right, "and if you need anything, just wake me up. I don't care."

"I still remember the house, Krys," Jason said softly. We sat in front of the fireplace, flames licking at my feet as I scooted closer. It didn't bother me. I liked being close to the fire. "It's so comfortable here…so warm and inviting." His voice was just a murmur against the crackle of the fire.

"It's too cold."

"Are you kidding me? You're practically sitting in the fire and you're _cold_?"

"I have body heat problems. And it gets colder at night."

"Oh. Let me go get something to warm you up. I'll be right back," he said, standing and rushing towards the door before grabbing the handle and tugging.

"It gets a little stuck sometimes."

"Oh," he said, muttering something under his breath as he yanked on the doorknob. The door suddenly flew open, making him nearly fall. "I think I got it," he said warmly before exiting the house. A moment later he ran inside and slammed the door, shaking from cold and carrying a box.

"What is that?" I asked him. He just smiled and handed it to me.

"Merry Christmas, now open it."

I tore through the paper with my claws and opened the box. It was a soft blue blanket and next to it was a ceramic mug with my name on it. I smiled at him as he pulled the blanket over my shoulders and grabbed the mug.

"Do you have any cocoa?" he asked. I nodded.

"In the cabinet above the sink," I told him. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen and I began to focus on the fire again. It was a cold night, even for normal people. There was fluffy white snow on the ground in thick layers and covering the trees in big piles balanced on branches. I didn't know how long it was before Jason returned with two mugs full of cocoa. He sat down and pulled the blanket around us both and we sat, sipping our cocoa and talking for hours. Eventually I grew tired and needed to go to sleep.

"Are you going to bed already?" Jason called as I walked down the hall to my bedroom.

"What do you mean, already? It's past midnight."

"Yea? So?" he called after me. I heard him stand and walk towards me. When I turned around to face him he was inches away from me; I almost bumped into him. He smirked and looked down at me, then wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

"Didn't hear me comin', huh? I guess that super hearing doesn't work so well when you're tired," he teased.

"I guess not," I said, trying to smile. "But I'm tired. I need sleep."

"Well alright," he said softly, slowly releasing me, "Sweet dreams and goodnight."

"Goodnight." And with that I turned away and walked to the door of my room, opened it and sighed. The moment the door clicked shut I jumped onto the bed, crawling under the covers and smiling to myself. But my happy mood didn't last that long; my sleep was plagued with nightmares and memories, blurred together so I couldn't exactly tell what was just a dream and what had actually happened.

"_Krystal you're going to be alright, I promise," his voice echoes as I crawl towards the darkness. I can't control myself. His voice changes; deepens into something else. It becomes a growl; it's coming from me. It turned again, this time into something loud and high pitched. A scream. It's not me anymore; it's from someone else... It's my sister, Lyn. She's only five years old. The darkness swirls into an image of her screaming face, burned into my memories, a permanent stain. Her face starts to change; it's not human anymore. _

"_Please, Sister, save me! Save me!" she yells and yells but I don't move. I sit and watch as hundreds of monsters come crawling past me towards her, devouring her. They turn to dust and blow away, and all that's left is the small girl's skeleton. It changes into a rat. It scurries past my feet and runs away._

_The wind is blowing around me, my hair is whipping around and my feet are suddenly moving. I feel numb and cold. I hear more screams, some familiar and some unrecognizable. Some are of infected and some are of survivors. And suddenly I'm screaming, but it's much different from the cries of humans. It's a war cry. I'm screeching and running and then flying through the air. _

"_Krystal…" someone is saying, over and over. "Krystal…Krystal!" It becomes panicked and frantic._

"Krystal!" I woke up and saw Jason standing over me. My entire body was drenched in sweat and I felt freezing.

"Jason?" I groaned, nearly whispering. His eyes were wide and he looked worried.

"Krystal…you were screaming! Is everything okay?" he asked me.

"Jason this happens every night. Nothing's wrong. I just had a bad dream…" I rolled over, trying to go back to sleep. Lyn's screaming face was still etched into my mind, but I was used to things now. These dreams had been happening ever since Jason left.

"When did this start, Krys?" he said, his eyes almost looked hurt, and his face was twisted into a grimace.

"Since…since you left," I whispered, "God I'm freezing. I was suddenly lifted out of the bed and carried down the hall, towards the fire.

"Your skin is…well it feels normal, for a normal person," he said quietly. He sat down in front of the fire and pulled me onto his lap, then draped the warm blanket he had gotten me over his shoulders and wrapped us both up in it. I was trapped, but at least I was warm. We sat in front of the fire and, for once in my life, I felt some real emotion. "I wish that you could be more…happy…" he whispered to me before wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I feel…better…when I'm with you. I wouldn't call it happy, but at least it's better," I said softly. The light from the flames danced across our faces, illuminating his beautiful golden brown eyes. It made me smile, being here. My stomach fluttered and nearly turned upside down for the first time in three years as he leaned down to kiss my cheek.

"Well it's a start," he whispered, "And you know, I really did think about you every day while I was gone. I just thought it would be better if I left…I know that I was wrong now."

"It's not your fault," I said to him quietly. We sat in silence, our eyes saying the unspoken words for us as the flames flickered and danced around the room. I eventually surrendered to the sleepiness and let it take over my body. When I was finally asleep, though, I was surprised to instantly wake up.

"What time is it?" I asked Jason. He smiled.

"I'd say about…eight," he said quietly. My eyes widened. I had actually slept through the night without having a nightmare. "Merry Christmas!"

I stood up with the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, wrapping my body in warmth. I turned to him and smiled, this time it was genuine. "Merry Christmas," I yawned before walking towards the kitchen.

"I made breakfast," Jason called after me. I looked at the table. There were two plates out with bacon and scrambled eggs and toast. I smiled.

"You can cook?" I asked, sitting down at the table with him. I poked nervously at my eggs before scooping up a small bit with my fork and tasting it. He smirked. "Oh my God you can _cook_," I said before devouring the plate of food. He ate at a slower pace but finished soon after me and grabbed both plates, carrying them to the sink.

"You live in such an _old_ house…" he muttered, not please with the fact that he had to clean the plates by hand. I just smiled and walked back to the fire. When he was done washing, he came in and sat next to me; I was instantly warm. "Hey, Krys?"

"Yes?"

"I…I got a new job. I'm not leaving again," he said quietly.

"What?" I was shocked for a minute. "I thought this was just a visit…"

"Nope. I'm here for good. No more nightmares." His smile was warmer than the fire and, at that moment, I realized what I was feeling. _Happy. _"Merry Christmas, baby girl."


End file.
